


Forged by fire

by 35391291



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, The Lonely Mountain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8396545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/35391291/pseuds/35391291
Summary: A part of them will always live in the past, and this is right. Or it will be, in time. Just as long as they can move forward somehow. They owe it to everyone who fell, so that they could belong somewhere once again.
A fix-it fic of sorts. Mostly, an exercise in self-comfort. I've been meaning to write this for years, and so here it is.





	

Once the battle is over, everything seems to turn into a dream. Perhaps it is for the better. Rebuilding the city takes up every waking hour, and there is no time for getting lost in thoughts. But night time brings it all back. The loss and the heartbreak. Everything that has been taken away from them, gone forever. They are back in the heart of the Mountain now, and want for nothing. But it is not enough. No treasure is worth the loss and the pain. A lesson learnt at a very high cost, one that feels almost like punishment, and leaves behind the bitter taste of guilt. Everything had to burn, so that they could start to build again. Time will tell if it was worth it or not.

Every time he closes his eyes, even if only for a moment, Thorin can almost hear the echoes of the past. Beloved, brave voices. Songs that make his heart and his eyes overbrim with feelings. Friends have become legend, and that is proper and right. But that, he does not want. Eternity is not enough for those who are left behind, trying to make sense out of it all. Trying to go on. He is supposed to be strong for all of them now, and lead them like a proper king. But he finds that he does not know how. Everything has changed, everything that could have been is not, and that uncertainty keeps him frozen, unable to go on. How to move forward, when so many will not have this chance? How to think of the future, when the past pulls them back so strongly? The despair in his heart feels like a weapon, ready for the battle. It is like a thorn in his mouth, and he can't let go.

Days go by, and the pain in his heart doesn't go away. It feels dry and barren, but he learns to live with it. It changes him, and makes sure he doesn't forget. Sometimes he goes about his day, suddenly stops, and remembers. They all do. The songs help, they soothe the pain and give them something to hold on, to give back as a sort of offering. Their every thought being blown away by the wind, as if they somehow could be heard across lands and times gone by. A part of them will always live in the past, and this is right. Or it will be, in time. Just as long as they can move forward somehow. They owe it to everyone who fell, so that they could belong somewhere once again.

Bilbo helps too. Thorin had not expected him to stay, but he had. He has been a most welcome pair of hands, and, more importantly, someone who understands. Slowly, Thorin begins to see something new, something that resembles a glimmer of hope. It is not unwelcome. Although each day seems to be full of doubts and misunderstandings, he still appreciates it. It is not perfect, and that makes it very much real. And, looking back, not completely unexpected. They had slowly started to trust each other after sharing many dangerous days, and grown fond of the bravery and tenderness they saw hidden deep within the other's heart. Sleeping under the stars, it is impossible to hide one's true self. This is why gold doesn't mean anything now. Not anymore. What he has found in this journey is stronger and far more precious.

Thorin feels his heart becoming alive again, almost like a burning furnace. It is lighter, and perhaps something other than pain could live in it now. It has been forged by fire, almost made new, and it beats along with the heart of the Mountain, but not for gold anymore. It beats for warmth, friendship and love. It feels familiar and right. Their foreheads close together, touching, trusting. Thorin has shared moments such as this with his people before, and it is always comforting. Being this close to someone again feels like a revelation, like that much needed step forward. It makes him feel less weary, almost as if hundreds of years were undone. Or perhaps, done right this time around, shaped by the song of the wind. He whispers something in Khuzdul, words that Bilbo doesn't understand. But he doesn't have to. They sound tender and hopeful, like the promise of a place that feels like home.


End file.
